


Midnight is for regrets

by ABroodyGay



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Laura is horny and wallowing in self pity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8056486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABroodyGay/pseuds/ABroodyGay
Summary: You can feel regret already coiling in the pit of your stomach but you don't care.





	Midnight is for regrets

You have come to the conclusion (as the latent agnostic you are) that whatever higher being exists, he, she, they or it clearly  _ hates  _ you.

You mean, apart from the whole world ending thing, one of your best friends currently being possessed by you ex's evil undead entity of a mother and another dying in your arms then getting turned into a vampire by said undead mother. You know things are bad when you consider a sentient Library with a sadistic sense of humour a safe haven.

The cherry on this fucked up sundae are the moments when you feel Carmilla’s eyes on the back of your head but when you turn to look her nose is conveniently buried in yet another book.Or when you accidentally touch and you both seem to feel a flash of... _ something _ or when she bends over in those leather pants and all you can think of was that time you bent her over the desk and-

"Hey Frosh!” You look up to find LaF grinning at you from the bulletin board.

"You might want to wipe your chin, drooling with your mouth open isn't a good look."

Wiping your chin with the back of your hand you focus your attention on your latest craft project (a paper flower garland made from pad and tampon wrappers) and pretend you weren't thinking about the way Carmilla ground on your fingers when you tugged on her hair just a bit- _ No. Stop it Hollis. Self control. _

You had both agreed to be friends. Friends do not think about each other like  _ that _ …

You know you are lying to yourself. You know that the only way you can get any sleep tonight,well, any night, is by slipping a hand between your legs and pulling up vibrant memories of sex with Carmilla...fucking Carmilla...Thinking of it as making love now just means you can't come, and only leads to you soaking your pillow with tears.

* * *

“-just good, old fashioned platonic buddy’s.”

There's a moment of silence that seems to be an eternity. It's like you both know what’s about to happen but are too frightened to make the first move. You can feel regret already coiling in the pit of your stomach but you don't care. It's like your body is moving of its own accord,like it has been craving more contact since that searing kiss a few days ago, like it's craving to feel alive again, to feel your pulse hammer in your ears, throb between your legs.

You sweep as much as you can off the desk, you know exactly what you want and you don't care about the mess or the awkward questions later, hell, you don't even care that your dad or LaF could walk in any second. You just need to feel Carmilla, Carmilla,  _ Carmilla.  _ Her name is a mantra is your head only broken by her little squeak of surprise when you lift her onto the desk. 

You don't have time for undressing, you simply pull her jacket off her shoulders and tug down her shirt and bra, pressing sloppy kisses to her alabaster skin, loving the way she's panting beneath you, her hands curling urgently into your hair,tugging you up so she can kiss you again. You press a knee firmly between her legs and feel her moan vibrate against your lips. Doing it again you kiss down her neck, sucking and biting not caring if you leave marks, not caring who sees, not caring who knows about your loss of control. 

"Laura..."

Stopping, you look up at her, lips swollen, a soft flush on her cheeks and her hair wild. She looks gorgeous and for a moment your throat constricts. "I'm...I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

You're about to step back, stoop down and pick up the scattering of paper and books and pencils-

"Don't stop."

You hold her gaze for a few more moments and something unspoken passes between you. You know you won't talk about this after, but it's something you both need right now, you need to escape from the hell of your reality in each other.

Fingers trembling slightly you unbutton the fly of her jeans and tug them down just enough for you to be able to move your hand freely between her legs. You find her wet and hot and your eyes flutter closed at how good it feels to touch her like this again, to know that you can still do this to her. You tell yourself to keep your eyes closed that this is just a fuck, a release of tension, nothing more, but when you brush your thumb over her clit the way shegasps and shudders makes your eyes open of their own account and fix on her face. She's looks up at you from under eyelashes and when you press more firmly, circling in the way you know she likes, she bites her lip and clutches at the edge of the desk.

You keep going like that for a while, loving the way her hips jerk when you go a little faster, how she whines softly when you soften your touch just a little.

You always did love teasing her, seeing how long it would take for a century’s old vampire to beg you to-

_ "For God's sake Laura, stop playing around and fuck me!" _

It's a snarled whisper and she grabs your wrist and forces your hand further down her panties where she's practically dripping for you. You moan out loud and slip two fingers easily inside her, Carmilla's head lolling back onto the desk with a thunk.

It doesn't take long after that. She comes in a matter of minutes, one hand clawing at your back, then the back of your neck to pull you down so she can muffle her cry of pleasure with a passionate kiss. She barely lets herself recover before she's grabbing your ass and unbuttoning your shirt. She pulls up your vest top and tugs at your bra until she can close her mouth around your left nipple.Straddling her thigh you try and lose yourself in the feel of her pressing against you, her mouth on your breasts, one hand on your waist guiding your hips. Moving on top of her like this reminds you of the times she guided your knees higher than this, to straddle her face and the memory of her tongue sliding through you, her lips closing around your clit pulls you kicking and screaming to the edge. You want, no,  _ need _ this to last longer because you know after you’re finished it will be back to awkward glances and desperately pretending you don't want her like this.

Unbuttoning your jeans quickly, you grab her hand from your waist and press it over the waistband of your underwear. She doesn't need asking twice and her eyes lock on yours,  fingers slipping down to rub your clit hard and fast.

You feel your eyes roll back and the moan that would be her name catches in your throat when you come, shuddering on top of her while she murmurs soft words of encouragement. She guides you to rest on top of her and just for a moment you pretend that you can stay like that forever, her arms around you and her lips pressed against your forehead. But reality calls and being a realist you know it's probably not a good idea for your father to see this.

It probably wasn't a good idea in the first place.

But then again your track record on good ideas is pretty much zero.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to b-ellatores for betaing. (Go follow her on tumblr. She's super awesome and a very talented writer.)


End file.
